Pulling Heaven Down
by Truth and Chaos
Summary: The world had finally given Holly Harper a reprieve, she was with a man that loved her, pregnant, had a job and real friendships. For once she was borderline normal and that was fine with her. Pity it wouldn't last. Sequel to All of this Past. *Complete*
1. In the Beginning or July Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men franchise or any character there in. Stan Lee does.

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To all the people discovering my stories with this one, look up **All of this Past. **This is the sequel!

**For updates on other stories and/or old ones please visit my Author's page to view my twitter account.**

**TruthnChaos**

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My Life Would Suck Without You - Glee Cast Version

Smile - Glee Cast Version

Sweet Caroline - Glee Cast Version

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**July**

In the entire world Holly had but two addictions. One was an unhealthy attraction to really screwed up love stories. The other was kissing her boyfriend. Alright it wasn't just kissing him. Though that was absolutely the top of the list. Maybe it would have been better stated to say that she was addicted to Logan.

His kisses, his scent, his skin, his voice…everything. Her fingers trailed down his biceps. Logan held himself above her, hips between her legs, mouth pressing to hers. His muscles bunched and coiled under her fingers as he shifted and eased back just a little. Enough to give him room to kiss along her jaw. His teeth found one of her earlobes and nipped it before pressing his lips to the sensitized skin beneath. Logan's warm mouth trailed down to the juncture between neck and shoulder. He bit her again, harder this time.

Holly's hips bucked of their own accord. She ground ugently against the hard and heavy lump of flesh seated just between her legs. Logan's roughed voice in her ear chuckled, "Easy darlin', we've got all night."

She knew that. She did. Really. She was nodding shallowly while her hands pulled quickly and furiously at his muscle shirt.

Logan was laughing again. One of his hands stilled hers, "Holly, darlin'…" he brushed a few dark strands of hair from her eyes with the tips of his fingers.

It had to be the pregnancy hormones. It had to be. Holly just sighed. She reached up and touched his face, while the fingers of her right hand traced absentminded patterns over the skin of his left forearm.

Or maybe…

He was looking down at her with brown eyes that said he was concerned.

"Sorry," was the whisper that left her lips even though she wasn't. She pushed up just enough and kissed him hard. Holly kissed him and told herself that she loved Logan. This wasn't just about really great sex and the twins growing inside her.

Logan loved her. He loved her. Together they had her power under control. They were going to have kids together. He rolled and pulled her on top of him. Her hips straddled his. Logan held her head in place as he kissed her.

A life. Together. It wouldn't be one with white picket fences and a squat house with two point five kids and three bedrooms. But it would be their life. Their kids. Maybe a dog or cat, or both, somewhere along the line. Somewhere really far down the line.

Her fingers dug into his hair, her body pressed tightly against his. "I love you," she murmured softly against his mouth. "You know that don't you?"

"I know darlin'," her whispered in return. Logan rolled them over again, sliding her underneath him, parting her legs so that he could grind his hips against hers. Her body responded instantly, her body lifting to meet his. This time when she reached for the hem of his shirt he didn't still her hands. Logan straightened and yanked his shirt off in a near frenzy. Holly's hands went to the button of his jeans and pulled at it.

His clothing hit the floor in an unceremonious pile. Moments later her clothing joined his.

This wasn't just about the sex, Holly told herself as Logan's hardened body pressed into hers. Her back arced off the bed. Her fingers dug into his skin. Her legs wrapped around his hips, urging him forward. His mouth covered hers and swallowed her cries of ecstasy.

This was so _not_ just about the sex.

* * *

The lack warmth pressed against her lower abdomen wasn't what woke her from sleep. Holly blinked softly in the predawn light. Logan's hand slapped the snooze button on the alarm clock and rolled back onto his side. Then it took up its place on his lover's lower stomach once again.

"Go back to sleep." He whispered against her ear. "It's Saturday."

"You," she said slowly through the haze of sleep, "have an obsession with my stomach."

Warm lips pressed to her forehead, "I told you to go back to sleep woman."

Holly murmured an incoherent protest in her half sleeping state. She nuzzled deeper into the cocoon of warmth created by the blankets and his chest. Bones made of metal or not, the man made a ridiculously great pillow.

"Sleep," Logan ordered.

Her brain didn't feel the need to protest.

It was nearly nine in the morning by the time she woke up again. It was the sound of the shower in the bathroom turning on that woke her. She blinked blearily at the clock and groaned. Logan had let her sleep in again. Granted that yes, it was summer and school was not in session currently. That didn't mean she didn't have plans for the day.

She was supposed to go shopping with Rogue at eleven. Apparently Rogue and Remy had let their relationship develop to the next level. Whichever level that was. Holly wasn't even aware that a relationship could have multiple levels of intimacy outside of a romance novel.

Logan had pretty much ensured that levels were bypassed in the heat of the moment. In the heat of several moments. Not that she was complaining. Who needed levels to a relationship when you could make love to a man that made you his singular obsession in bed?

Holly dragged herself out of said bed grunting with annoyance when that ache that Logan had so expertly massaged out of her back was suddenly present with a vengeance. At four months along she shouldn't have been having this kind of pain. It was just too cruel.

Unfortunately for her she was carrying twins. Since twins meant more weight on her stomach then it also meant more weight on her back and… Holly sighed softly. She placed both of her hands on her bare stomach. Their heart beats were strong and their development was good. It was better than good.

Doctor MacTaggert had given Holly the all clear in the ultrasound last week. She had even offered to tell them the sex of both the twins. Holly's fingers trailed over her softly bulging stomach. Boys. She was carrying two boys.

"I can't wait to meet you," she whispered to them.

The shower in the bathroom shut off. A minute or so later Logan emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Mornin' darlin'," he said.

"I wonder what they'll look like," Holly murmured. She looked up at him from the bed, "I know my eyes defied logic and genetics to stay green. I don't know if theirs will. Would you mind having green eyed kids?"

"I don't care what they look like," Logan told her. He leaned down, tilting her head upward just a little bit more to kiss her. "They're part you and part me. I'm good with that."

She sighed a little and smiled at him even though it was watery and spread slowly across her lips. It didn't reach her eyes. Holly was sure of it. She touched his face, her finger tips tracing his hawkish nose and heavy brow. Logan was beautiful in his own right. A man's beauty. Solid and strong. Their kids would be heart breakers.

Holly pressed her mouth to his, "I love you."

He kissed her back.

* * *

As it turned out Holly did not have to go shopping with Rogue that morning. She and Remy had apparently had a fight over where to draw the proverbial line. Remy, being older, wanted to do a lot more than Rogue wanted to. Rogue, being fairly young and inexperienced didn't want to push her powers and her self control further than she was comfortable with.

It had ended in a shouting session.

There was the slamming of a door and a bout of rapid, angry, French.

"That's their third fight in as many days," Holly said to Logan. She lay curled against his side, her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Her fingers trailed lazy circular patterns on his clothed chest and stomach. His hand rested at the base of her back.

Logan looked at the time on the clock on their nightstand, "Darlin' I'm gonna have to head downstairs soon." Another danger room session.

Becoming the Xavier Institute's first mom had pretty much ensured that Holly would never get asked to join the X-Men team ever again. Aside from sessions in the danger room, Logan was pretty much an inactive member of the team. Unless Magneto or the Ten Rings decided to have at the world again. Then again, there were a couple dozen superheroes in the world now.

Any bad guy rearing his or her ugly head would have a serious problem these days.

"I have reading to do anyway," Holly told him.

There was a knock at the door almost as soon as the words were out of Holly's mouth.

"It's Rogue," Logan informed his lover before extracting himself from her arms.

"Holly?" Rogue sniffled audibly, "Kin ah talk to you?"

Not to be a bitchy friend, but Holly was getting tired of coddling Rogue. At some point there was going to be a time when Holly wouldn't be there to talk to. She met Logan's eyes and nodded. He opened the door and let Rogue, puffy eyed and sniffling into the room.

That day wasn't today however.

Holly jerked the hood of her jacket over her head and motioned with open arms to Rogue. The younger woman nearly knocked Holly back into the bed with the force of impact when she threw herself into her friend's arms. Then Rogue balled her eyes out. Again.

"Ah don't know what ah'm doin' wrong," the younger woman sobbed. "Ah like him, ah do. Ah really do." Rogue said the words almost as if they were a chant. "Ah do."

"I know," Holly supplied.

"And," Rogue sniffed, "Ah want to…to…" the crying started again.

Holly cast a glance at the clock. It wasn't noon yet. The best idea was to get Rogue out of the mansion for a while and let Remy blow off steam elsewhere. Eventually the two would get to making up and their compromises. After they both had the time to calm down.

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A/N: Hello all! I bet you guys thought I wasn't going to ever post this. Hehe.

Largely fluff, I know, but substance comes next.

To all the people that discovered **All of this Past** after it was finished, thank you for reviewing and hitting favorite. It means so much to me.


	2. Wrong or July Part 2

What I've Done - Linkin Park

New Divide - Linkin Park

Pain - Jimmy Eat World

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Upon hearing the news her grandfather, her technical father since he raised her, promptly hung up on her. Holly had been trying his house phone once to twice a day to reach him for the last two months. As it had for the past couple of months the phone rang and rang then went to his answering machine.

"Pop," she sighed, "you need to get over this. I love him." She sighed again, "Please, just call me okay?" The phone flipped closed with a soft click.

"He still not pickin' up?" Rogue said with her earthy southern accent.

"No," Holly shook her head. The fries on tray looked unappetizing. "Why is it that my dad, my boyfriend, and my two best friends are superheroes?"

The people at the table next to them stopped their conversation and turned their heads.

"Go back to your food," Rogue shushed at them.

The three got up and left.

"Anyway," the younger woman fixed a lock of long brown hair, "Ah dunno. Maybe that's just what happens when you live in a school full of mutants."

"Doctor Mac Taggert told me to gain six pounds." Holly pushed her fries around the paper, "I feel like a balloon already."

"Ah think you look beautiful," Rogue said. "You've got this shine all the time. Kind of like you're glowing."

Ugh. Glowing.

Hormones and good – pregnant – sex did not make up for feeling like a whale had taken up residence on her spinal column. One gloved hand placed on her bloated belly. Honestly having sex without a condom once did not warrant this kind of punishment! Damn Mother Nature and the laws of physics and biology.

Honestly, they had used condoms every time after the first time. Really. They had.

She had insisted on it. The chances of a nosebleed had been slim to none. Trojan condoms were machine made. Holly snatched a fry up and put it in her mouth. According to Doctor MacTaggert she was due in November. Give or take a few days and the twins might actually send her into labor sometime around Thanksgiving.

Oh wouldn't that be fun?

Why did most of the significant moments in her life primarily happen during the winter?

"Ah don't know what ah'm goin' to do about Remy," Rogue said pulling Holly's attention back to lunch and reality.

"Draw your line in the sand," Holly said. "He has to understand that you have limitations."

The younger woman's eyes dropped to her food. Her lips twisted briefly. "Ah know. But he's got it in his head that if you could get past not being able to touch people…" her voice trailed off.

Holly's attention fully snapped back into focus. "He what?"

Rogue suddenly looked guilty. "Ah told him how you and Logan were able to work on being together and now Logan kin touch you and it won't kill you. Ah dunno what ah was thinkin' but now Remy…" she shrugged instead of finishing her sentence.

Evergreen eyes closed. She exhaled through her nose. She was the genius here, not Rogue and not Remy. Getting angry over something like that was pointless. Holly pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed out until there was no air in her lungs. She let the burn for air temper her irritation.

"You're not me," Holly said hotly after a few moments of silence. "Your mutation is not my mutation. If he can't wrap his infinitesimal excuse for a brain around that then dump his ass and get on with life."

The look of pure shock on Rogue's face wasn't the first thing that alerted Holly to something being wrong here. Holly's common sense had told her that she had overreacted but that didn't seem to temper her irritation or anger any less. In fact…she was even angrier. Not the type of embarrassed angry that people reach for when they know they've said the wrong thing and are trying to blow it off.

No. She was pissed off.

Really pissed.

Her brow creased, "I think…" she just wanted to punch her fist through something or someone and… No. No. That wasn't her. Holly Harper didn't punch unless it was self defense. This hot flush of venom wasn't hers. It wasn't.

It wasn't hers.

* * *

The sound of the two heartbeats fluttered faster than humming bird's wings into the speaker from the ultrasound machine. Doctor MacTaggert had already assured Logan and Holly both multiple times that yes, that speed was normal. The twins were perfect. Holly's pregnancy was going over incredibly well. If only all mothers should be so lucky.

The older woman moved the ultrasound's monitor so that Holly could see what she had already been told. "They are fine Holly," the Scottish woman repeated for the umpteenth time.

The younger woman looked down at her swollen stomach, now coated with cold transparent blue gel. She knew they were fine. She _knew_ it. Holly couldn't have said how she was so sure that her sons were fine but it went right along with knowing that something else wasn't right.

It really wasn't.

Holly smiled guiltily at Doctor MacTaggert, "I'm sorry. I'm just paranoid I guess."

Paranoia didn't explain her inexplicable and unwarranted bouts of anger and doubt. No. Not just anger and doubt. All of her emotions. All of them were extreme when she felt them. Happy wasn't just happy, it was ecstatic. Angry wasn't just angry, it filled her with a violent fury to rival Logan's internal rage.

What happened when an emotion like sadness or fear hit her?

What would happen? What could happen?

Oh god.

"There's something wrong with me," Holly said aloud.

"Holly," the Scottish woman said with a soft brogue, "I've told you that there is nothing wrong with your pregnancy. I know you feel like…" her voice died. The doctor was reaching for something in her pocket. She pulled out the pen light from her pocket and took Holly's chin in between her thumb and index finger.

Doctor MacTaggert shined the light into Holly's eyes.

Holly winced and jerked away, "Ow!"

"Am I correct in assuming that you were a twin?" The older woman asked.

"No," Holly replied blinking her eyes to ease the dull ache that pulse behind her lids. The light had been sharp and painful. She rubbed at her left eye, the more pained of the two. "Only child."

"Twins run in your family then?" The doctor sounded almost desperate to hear the answer.

Holly, once she could see properly, scowled at the woman, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Holly replied. The hot creep of anger began to flush her skin. How many times did she have to answer the same damn questions?

"Holly," Doctor MacTaggert said with caution, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes damn it."

"Your left iris is losing its green pigmentation," the older woman said, "it's turning amber."

The rage building inside Holly evaporated almost as quickly as it had appeared. She blinked. "What?"

"Typically," the doctor said quickly, "this happens in children, infants that were twins and absorbed a twin that died in utero. The pigmentation distributes and evens out over the course of ages one through five. By the time the child reaches ten their eye color no longer changes. There are some genetic disorders that can cause a slow shift in pigmentation but…" Her voice waver just enough. Enough to say that Holly wasn't going to like what came next. "But it takes years."

"My eyes were green yesterday." Holly told the older woman. "They were green this morning."

"I know," Doctor MacTaggert said. "I know."

* * *

A small crescent in on the far right side of her left eye had turned amber. It was less than a millimeter large and still, somehow, it was huge. Holly turned her head slightly trying to watch the strange new coloring. The good doctor was going to conduct a series of tests on Holly's blood over the next few days. The tests were to ensure that nothing was actually wrong with Holly or the twins.

If they proved nothing or provided no explanation and Holly's left eye kept going with its color change; then there would be genetic experiments to conduct. Holly's tests would have to be passed on to someone else at that point. There were people who had better equipment and the connections to get to the root of the problem.

Well Holly had her own connections. She dug the cell phone Logan had given her out of her jacket's pocket. Holly found her father's personal cell number under her contacts and punched the send button. The phone rang once, twice, and on the third time it picked up.

Tony Stark was pleasantly surprised that his daughter was calling him. He had just been thinking about calling her. He pinched the phone between his left ear and left shoulder. "Holly," he said happily, "I was just thinking about you. I'm going to be in New York in a couple of weeks and I was thinking about-"

"Dad," Holly's voice cracked as she cut him off.

Tony, who had been in the middle of pulling apart an engine, stilled, his hands frozen in their position. Then he switched the phone to his other ear. His daughter had never, not once, had called him 'dad' before. She had told him it would feel weird. He had honestly thought it would feel weird for someone her age to call him 'dad' but…no. It had not.

Hearing his daughter call him dad when she was quite possibly on the brink of tears made him want to be in New York. Immediately. Tony mentally calculated the amount of time it would take him via his plane, or suit, to get to Xavier's School.

"What's wrong?" he asked, abandoning his project.

"Dad," Holly's broken sob had her father taking the stairs two at a time, "there's something wrong with me." Then she told him. She told him about the extreme emotions, how they went beyond hormones and terrified her with their intensity. She told him about the strange amber crescent of color that had appeared in her eye out of nowhere.

When her sobs had quieted Tony told her, "I'll be there tomorrow."

* * *

Watching Across the Universe. What is it about men with English accents that makes me go weak in the knees?

I'm making pancakes, who wants one?


	3. When I'm Better or July Part 3

What I've Done - Linkin Park (For Logan)

Once in a Lifetime - Wolfshime (Specifically this song. On repeat.)

Stab My Back - The All American Rejects

* * *

Logan's arms around her didn't seem to help the bone chilling terror Holly felt when she looked in the mirror and found that the crescent of color was no longer just a crescent. It was larger now. Wider. Longer. She buried her face in Logan's chest, closed her eyes and breathed out. It had been a few hours, just a hand full of hours.

It had taken nearly two hours to get to sleep.

The nightmare that had woken her had sent Holly to the bathroom sick to her stomach. There had been so much blood. Blood and gore. The room had been pungent with the acrid coppery stench of blood…and death. There had been death hanging heavily in the air around her. It had pressed on her, smothered her.

Holly had washed her face, breathing deeply in and out. Then she looked in the mirror. She covered her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped her throat. It didn't help. Logan had nearly broken the door down to get into the bathroom. His dark eyes, so accurate in any light narrowed after he had made sure she was alright.

"It's bigger," Holly had whispered.

Logan had pulled her into his embrace and held her while she shook. He held her and soothed her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. "It'll be alright darlin'," he murmured. "It'll be alright."

By morning half of Holly's eye was amber colored with another smaller brown dot in the middle of the amber by morning. The appearance of the brown dot meant something else to Doctor MacTaggart. It meant Holly's eye was changing color to brown. It was a new development that was neither good nor bad.

"Better then nothin'," Logan said. He had two options; get angry in turn making Holly angry or stay calm and deal.

Not that he was okay with being here to begin with. This place, Baxter Tower, was too clinical and cold. It reminded him of places he only half remembered. It had been Tony's idea to bring Holly here. Holly's father had arrived in the early morning, his ear attached to his phone and a limo.

Logan had to give Tony Stark one thing; the man knew how to get what he wanted when he wanted it.

Holly lay curled against him, tired from the testing. The two doctors had run every test they could think of on her from what Logan understood. Math and science was her department, not his. He could wrap his tongue around the words and he got the meaning behind them, but he was never going to be able to understand half the things Holly talked about with her father.

It was hard to miss the lumbering sound of the guy made of rock and yet Logan was completely unprepared for the cup of coffee that was thrust at him. "The Egg Heads are still workin' on it," he said in a gruff New York accent.

Logan took the offered mug and raised it in a gesture of thanks. He sipped the liquid carefully. It was good coffee. Rich people always had the good stuff. Logan sipped again, dark eyes on the guy made of rock.

"Don't know how yer keeping your cool," Ben remarked after a moment of silence.

Logan's mouth settled into a thin, flat line. "If I lose my cool," he hugged Holly tighter with his other arm, "Her mutation 'll pick it up and she'll lose it too." And he didn't want that.

Doctor MacTaggert had warned him plainly: too much stress on Holly could force her into early labor and they'd lose the twins. There was no way their kids could survive in an incubator at this point. So Logan sipped his coffee and tempered his frustration and anger by holding onto the woman he loved.

* * *

Her brow creased in a deep line of concentration. The words were fuzzy, barely translating from plain English into her own thoughts. Holly blinked once then closed her eyes and tried to recall and repeat the words in her own mind. They were there but… Her left hand pressed to her temple as if that would help. The pressure afforded her no more clarity though.

"I feel like I'm asleep," she whispered to the room at large, not really addressing the two scientists, her father and her boyfriend. "I feel like my brain is too tired to keep going so it's slowing down."

"In effect," Reed Richards told her, "that is exactly what's happening to you. Your mutation forced your brain to turn unused space into storage. The memories that you've absorbed over the years haven't been overwriting each other. They've been taking up space."

Her mouth settled into a wry smile, tired and self loathing at the same time, "I'm a used up hard drive that's failing." She opened her eyes again just to see their faces. Yes, that was a completely accurate assessment according to Richards.

"No," the empathy in Susan Storm's tone was unmistakable. "Not necessarily. From what we understand your brain has been able to dump the information before. If we can recreate the situation then we can reverse the decline."

Though the words were there to give her hope, the only thing Holly could think of was to wonder why she hadn't seen this coming before. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. Maybe it had been hope that had shielded her from the knowledge that this day would come. It could have been love too. Love for the children growing inside her and love for Logan and for her friends. The love she had for her father and her grandfather.

Her hands pressed to the heavy weight of her round stomach. I'm sorry, Holly told the twins, I'm so very sorry. I wanted to see you grow up. I wanted so much for you. For us.

With a tight throat and tears stinging her eyes, "How long do I have?"

"As long as you don't absorb anything more before we can work out a way for you to clear the memories," Reed looked at his fiancé. Susan nodded at him. "Six months, perhaps less."

Logan's voice was raw and vehement when he finally spoke. He had understood what they were saying but he didn't want to accept it. This could not; no it would not be the beginning of the end. "There has to be something we can do." The arm he had around her tightened to the point where he was going to leave bruises. He looked down at her, tiny and so frail in his arms.

Throughout the whole of last year Holly had been stable. More than stable, according to the Professor and the Doc, Holly's condition had been improving. The last time she had blacked out was… A thought struck him that sent a sharp stab of guilt into his gut.

He had dumped a good two hundred years of memories into her head.

"Holly," Logan said her name, his voice thick with emotion, "did I do this to you?" He hadn't been addressing the room, he had been addressing the woman he wanted to be his wife. The woman having his children. The woman who had hurt herself to be with him.

Her gloved hand pressed against his chest and her cloth covered head leaned on his side. Her shoulders shuddered. Logan took her silence as his answer.

* * *

Never before had she been so careful about the layers she wore, but now seemed like as good a time as any to start. Her gloves overlaid her shirt, there was a t-shirt and a tank top underneath and a hooded jacket on top. Her leggings went under her jeans but over her socks. Her boots came up to mid calf.

Her skin, like her mind, was going to be treated like fragile crystal for a while. All of those bad habits Holly had developed over the past year had to be corrected as soon as possible. No more eating without checking her food. Showers were to be taken with her socks on once again. Human contact had to be kept at a minimum.

Logan was collecting his things from their room. He was, by order of three doctors, not to have any skin to skin contact with Holly until this was fixed. Handfuls of clothing dumped into his duffel bag.

"I found it you know," her voice was hollow yet infinitely sad.

It made him pause. He turned his head, "What darlin'?"

She smiled at him but it was a watery imitation of the beaming happiness she usually aimed in his direction. "I found the ring when we were visiting my dad. I was thinking that you were going to take me out and ask me but you never did." She drew in a shuddering breath, one that made her shoulder shake. "Did I do something wrong? Is that why you never asked me to marry you?"

The duffel bag hit the floor and he was across the room in two strides. Logan crouched in front of her, holding her head in his hands, their skin separated by the hood of her jacket. "Holly, darlin'," but words failed him. He had nothing he could say that would sound right. "I've been meanin' to," Logan looked for an explanation but he couldn't find one.

The ring had been burning a hole in various pockets for over two months now. Logan just kept thinking that he would ask her. He had not been waiting for the proverbial moment; he was waiting until he found the right way to say it.

The tears that trailed down her cheeks burned her skin. "When I'm better," she told him softly, "you can keep trying, okay?" Holly pressed a kiss to her finger tips then pressed her fingers against his mouth. "I want you to keep trying."

* * *

I actually cried writing that bit at the end. I'm glad people like the sequel so far and thank you so much for the reviews.

I promise Christabel and Samantha, I won't do to Holly what I did to Anna in "When Charlie Met Anna."

Gonna try to sleep now. Night all.


	4. Broken or August Part 1

Silver and Cold - A.F.I

Another Sad Song - Bandits

Pinch Me - Barenaked Ladies

I Will Survive - Stephanie Bentley

* * *

Concentrating on the words coming out of the nurse's mouth was difficult. Holly had to keep trying to clear her thoughts of the fuzzy, clouded feeling and nodded slowly. Mayfair General had managed to obtain a mutant that could wipe on touch. Unfortunately he could only wipe objects of their memories. Wiping people had ended him up in Mayfair in the first place.

Her lips twisted ruefully. She knew that feeling intimately.

The room the nurses put her in was really clean this time. Every inch was completely devoid of anything remotely human. Her head hit the pillow and suddenly Holly felt as if she could sleep a million and a half years if they let her. They wouldn't let her.

"You sure about this darlin'?" Logan asked uncertainly from the doorway. He wasn't supposed to touch anything in the room. He wasn't even allowed to stay, so he waited just inside the doorway. She was nodding at him but it took her a few moments to answer.

That was also something new. Anyone that didn't know Holly well wouldn't have known the difference. When she nodded her head Holly wasn't sure what she was hearing. She was doing it to make people think she understood them. It fooled others, but not him. He would wait for a verbal answer or he would stand in the doorway until he got one.

"Yes love," her voice was slow and soft, "I'm very sure."

In the two weeks since they had gone into Manhattan with her father, Holly had steadily declined. The amber spot had spread entirely. Now Holly's evergreen eyes were a shade of brown that was slightly lighter than Logan's. The shifting color of her eyes was not the largest change however.

The biggest change was something that bothered Holly. She wasn't smart anymore. Against medical advisement Holly had taken an IQ test. It took her nearly two days to finish it. In the end, after Professor Xavier had graded it, the number at the top of the page was not a good number. It was distinctly lower than the national average in fact.

It wasn't just the drop in her mental capacity or her inability to think coherently. Nor was it the restriction of her human contact. In the last two weeks people's memories had started to leak through. There had been a particularly violent episode where Holly had been stuck in Logan's memory of storming the beach at Normandy.

Confining herself to a psych ward was beyond a doubt the best thing Holly could do for herself at the moment. Mayfair General had a list of the vitamins and supplements that she had to take and their staff was instructed on how to deal with her episodes. Beyond that there was nothing anyone could do until her father, Reed Richards and Susan Storm could figure something out.

They were supposedly working on a mechanical brain that would allow Holly to dump her memories into it. She had to remember to keep it simple. She was a slow hard drive that needed to clean out faulty files and a bad registry. Once they were gone any residue information had to be removed to a separate external hard drive. That would ensure that her life was no longer in danger.

More importantly it would make sure the lives of her children were not in danger.

Reed Richards and Susan Storm had run more tests on her with the help of Doctor MacTaggert. The twins were fine. They had developed some sort of barrier that effectively blocked all psychic transfer from Holly to them and from them to her. Their tiny brains were safe from her larger unstable one.

The smile Holly gave Logan when she got up was sad, lonely and tired. They couldn't touch each other right now. She pressed her gloved fingers to her lips and reached to press them to his mouth. Telling him how much she loved him would have been redundant. She loved him and he loved her.

They would make it through this.

If she lived.

* * *

The hospital's supply of good reading material had dwindled since her last visit. Holly tossed the book at the corner of the room. It thudded against the wall and dropped to the floor to join its compatriots in a daily growing pile. The hospital's negative was nice enough to pass his books on to her after he was done with them. He was also nice enough to wipe all of Holly's incoming items for the nursing staff.

Still, the negative hadn't come to see her at all. Supposedly he was a nice guy, a really nice guy. The nurses, the younger ones at least, tittered on in the hallways talking about what a hottie the negative was supposed to be. Whenever they talked like that Holly would close her eyes and picture Logan's body without his clothes.

Nothing and no one would ever hold a candle to _that_. Not ever. Not in a million years.

A girlish giggle spilled from her lips. She curled up on her cot and buried her face in the pillow. There was nothing but her there. Not the person who had sewn the pillow together or the place it had been packaged in. Nothing but the smell of her shampoo and soap. Blessed nothingness and it was wonderful.

What she wouldn't have given though, to have someone to talk to. That was above all the reason she really wanted to meet the negative. The nurses and doctors didn't want her wandering amongst the other patients even though that was what she'd done the last time she had stayed at Mayfair. It was probably the fact that Tony Stark was paying to keep Holly safe that gave the doctors and nurses pause.

Some days Logan was there and other days he wasn't. He never seemed to go two days in a row without seeing her though. He gave her updates on what he knew about the brain her father and the two scientists were building. Then they would talk about little things. Holly had the feeling that she would repeat herself but Logan never complained.

Logan would press his ear to her stomach, which was really starting to bulge now. There would be kicks and his super sensitive hearing could pick up the heartbeats if it was quite enough. They danced around the elephant in the room every time he was there. It was easier than making it feel real. Avoiding reality was something they were starting to be good at.

* * *

"Seriously," someone said from the doorway several minutes after Logan had been gone. A guy probably no more than five foot nine, with medium blonde hair and amber-brown eyes leaned in and looked at her. He pointed at her, "You're freakin' tiny. How the hell do you and he," he held out his hands with splayed fingers and tried to mesh them against one another.

Holly, who had been lying in bed but was now propped up on her elbows, looked at the offensive intruder. Her eyebrows rose, "And you're an expert in anatomy?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and yawned as if he were bored. "I'm an expert at reading people and knowing relationships. You two don't fit."

Her temper, now aggravated and compounded by Logan's stored personality, had to have a fairly tight leash. Holly equated it with sun flares. One wrong pop and oops, goodbye solar system. She leveled a glare at him, "You can leave now."

He pouted a boyish pout and crossed his arms over his chest, "Now is that any way to treat the person who has been nice to you?"

Again her eyebrows shot up and her irritation with him grew, "Excuse me?"

With another roll of the shoulders, he smiled in a way that should have been even more irritating. Instead it was somewhat charming. Which in turn rubbed Holly the wrong way. She glared and his smile widened into an amused grin.

His eyes shifted color from a simple amber like brown to a lighter topaz with his glee. Cocking his head, he leaned back a little and checked the room number. Then he looked at her again, "You are the touch-know, right?"

Normally if Holly had full control of her faculties and brain power, she would have connected the dots faster than this. She breathed out now more annoyed with herself than him. Her left hand pressed to her forehead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. "You're the neg."

The grin was back in full force, a perfect row of shiny white teeth. "Alistair Elden, at your service," he said with a sweeping, gracious bow.

"Good for you," and that sounded way too much like someone else for Holly's comfort. She closed her eyes and breathed out, clearing her head. It was easy to get caught up in someone else's memories if she forgot to keep herself in the front and present.

There was a hand pressing to her forehead and for once it was just a hand. "You've got it really bad," Alistair said gently with concern "don't you?"

Holly pulled away from his touch. She opened her eyes. The cocky grin and the pearly teeth were hidden behind the grim flat press of his lips. The sparkle and shine that had made his eyes light up like topaz in the sunlight was replaced by a solid darkness. "You're eyes are strange, has anyone ever told you that?"

He withdrew his hand slowly, watching her with the utmost caution. "Yes," was his guarded reply. Then, as if he were truly worried, "Hey, don't fall over on me, okay?"

She nodded and closed her eyes again. It was getting hard to focus again. "I'm broken," she told him without knowing why. Maybe it was because she couldn't read him. His touch was completely blank. It was fantastic and horrible at the same time.

The flat press of his lips turned up at one corner, "Yeah, I noticed that."

* * *

Happy Valentines Day!

Watch the German movie Bandits and obtain the soundtrack. So awesome.

Currently wishing I could go to the Kane concert in Portland, Oregon on March 21st. Christian Kane already gave me the shivers but hearing his voice...dear lord. My legs turned to jell-o.

I would give almost anything to go. /sigh

About 3 to 4 chapters left.


	5. Alistair or August Part 2

Crazy for You - New Found Glory version

Someday - Nickleback

Here Comes the Sun - Nina Simone

Running Up that Hill - Placebo version

* * *

Convincing the staff that Holly was safe with a negative as her escort around the compound had not been easy for Alistair. Though he pulled it off fairly quickly, at least in his opinion. Twenty four hours after introducing himself Alistair had offered to get Holly out of the psych ward and down into the cafeteria for real food.

As real as food can get in a hospital that is.

He watched her eye the fluffy pancakes and pass them over. Before she had the chance to move down the line Alistair had snatched the plate off the counter and set it on her tray. "I hate it when women avoid eating food they like."

Holly's mouth had turned into a frown as she eyed the food that she really did want. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, "I won't be able to eat them."

Topaz colored eyes rolled upward. He stabbed the edge of one with his finger. "Problem solved."

The weak smile that crossed her lips gave him a small feeling of triumph. For the past day or so he had been trying to get her to do something besides wallow. That was why Alistair offered to take her down to the cafeteria for breakfast. The brilliant idea had come upon him the night before when she said she was used to eating real food.

Technically hospital cafeteria food was real. If it was corporeal then it was, at least in principle, real food. It was no doubt nutritious to boot.

"Your germs are all over my food," Holly muttered after Alistair had paid for the food. She still slapped a pat of butter on the top pancake and poured on the maple syrup.

"Wow," he said with the utmost self satisfaction and amusement while watching her wolf down the first bites, "a woman that eats. Holy crap."

"I haven't had pancakes in nearly fifteen years," Holly told him. And they were as good as she remembered hospital food or not. She reached for her milk and her gloved fingers brushed his. Holly shot him a quizzical look as he pulled away.

The guilty expression that crosses his face only served to confuse her further. "I guess," Alistair said after he'd swallowed his mouth full of bacon, "that you don't need everything wiped, huh?"

Oh. Holly picked up the box and opened it, "No, not everything, but it helps." She gave him the briefest of smiles and took a sip. Milk that was just milk. Good freaking god that was good. No, that was better than good. That was fantastic.

* * *

As irritating as Holly found Alistair's antics, he had convinced her just as quickly that it was an act. A complete front to hide the fact that he was not just a pretty face. Those were his words, not hers. Apparently he was there to provide cynical commentary, witty one liners and to harass her. Oh, he was also there to make sure that nothing she touched dropped her like a bad habit.

The way he acted reminded her of a teenage boy. It was a fairly convincing front. One the staff and general nurse population fell for without fail. His act reminded Holly a lot of Remy. All Alistair needed was the Cajun accent.

Despite it all, somehow he started to grow on her. Holly actually found herself fighting smiles when he talked. It was easy to keep up a conversation with him. That was probably because whenever he was near the cloudy fog inside Holly's brain would clear a bit. Completing even one coherent thought during the day was a plus in her book.

If Holly had been in her right mind she might have noticed the little things. The questions he asked about her life and her power seemed fairly normal at the time. Nothing sounded odd when he asked about the school so Holly told him. Her mind was clear enough to leave out the part where everyone she knew was a superhero of some kind.

When asked about Logan and their relationship Holly answered truthfully. The smile spread across her lips slowly quirking upwards at the corners, "I love him."

Alistair's topaz eyes dropped to Holly's oversized tummy, "Uh, yeah, I got that." He moved his knight, "Besides that, what exactly is the appeal?"

Holly moved her last pawn diagonally and snatched one of his rooks off the board. "Why?"

Again he said, "You two don't fit."

That argument was something he wasn't willing to explain. Even though Holly inquired every time what made him think that, Alistair never answered. It was a cryptic statement that confused her. As with every time he said that, Holly replied with, "What makes you say that?"

The press of his lips said he was holding back the answer. He moved his knight once again, "Check."

Holly blinked at the board. Damn it. How did she miss that move? "I told you," she said as she moved her queen into position, "I'm with him because I love him."

Alistair snorted. Love did not conquer all, not in his book. "How old are you anyway?" Alistair asked right before he declared checkmate.

Holly's brow creased with thought, her birthday had just past, hadn't it? The thought sparked a memory of dinner at a restaurant in California. Her father took her and Logan out to this place that required Logan to be in a jacket and tie. Logan looked good in a jacket and tie.

"I'm twenty eight," Holly replied after a moment. She knocked over her king for the third time since they started playing, "I used to win at chess."

Quick, long fingers began to put chess pieces back on the board, "Want to try again?"

The black king with its cold plastic cross settled right side up once more. Brown eyes that had once been green looked down at the checkered board, tracing from the medium brown to the dark stained wood squares. Alistair put the last rook on the board, "I'm thirty since you asked."

"You play the piano," Holly said grabbing one of his hands. His fingers were long, artful and his hands were a little large for his wrists. The automatic tension in his arm belied the wiry strength he had hidden under layers of a t-shirt and a sweater. The hairs on his arm were lighter than the medium blonde cropped mess on his head.

The chagrin written on his face would have told her much more, but her eyes were stuck on his hand. Alistair opened his mouth to say yes, he did play the piano. He played guitar too. His lips pressed together of their own volition effectively stopping him. They kept him from saying the words that had been settling themselves inside his head. Spilling confessions of infatuation to her, with her, about her, would not end well.

However, it was not the fear of the ever looming Logan who could no doubt pulverize him to powder that stilled Alistair's lips and froze his words in his throat. The fear of rejection. No, Alistair thought when she stripped off her gloves and pressed her smaller hand into his. No it wasn't just the fear of rejection. It was the fear that _she_ would reject him.

Admittedly allowing himself to want a woman he absolutely knew he could not have had not been a safe idea. His heart and gut and emotions had betrayed him beyond any compromise. The silent thrill that sped his heart when her skin touched his was unmistakable. Blood pounded in his ears and he wanted nothing more than to lace their fingers together.

To give her some sign, a warning maybe, that…

"Logan!" Holly said happily, her dark eyes lighting up with joy. She pulled on her gloves with two quick movements and was out of her seat.

Cold reality doused Alistair and flooded his veins with the frozen heat of jealousy. Of course. The bitter taste in his mouth wasn't from anything he had eaten earlier. No. It was from swallowing the knowledge that he hadn't gotten there first.

Turned half way in his seat, Alistair forced himself to watch her embrace the burly man. They didn't fit. Holly had to be somewhere around five foot three or four. Logan, even the name rubbed Alistair the wrong way, was at least six feet tall. She had to push up on her toes and he had to bend. They did _not_ fit.

Alistair swallowed the bitter bile that rose in his throat when Holly tugged her boyfriend by the hand to the table. Alistair forced himself to smile and shake the taller man's hand when Holly introduced them. _Friend_, that was what he was introduced as. Her friend.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek and kept his mouth shut.

* * *

The mechanical brain was taking more time to make than anyone had planned. It was being hardwired to react like a real brain, one that could absorb and react. The model for the brain was actually Holly's. They were trying to build it with her neural pathways so that the transfer would go over easily.

Holly had to read the note written by her father four times before her brain actually caught the meaning of the words. She sighed softly and leaned back into Logan's embrace. "School starts up in a week or so, doesn't it?"

Logan nodded, "Week from Monday."

The elephant in the room danced pirouettes in great pink combat boots.

She blinked slowly. When was Monday? Was it yesterday or the day before? Or was it the day before that? Or the day before that? A short spike of pain shocked its way through her skull. Her eyes squeezed closed. The days were starting to run together.

"I guess," her murmur was soft even to his ears, "that you won't be coming by to see me as often then, huh?"

One of his hands pressed to her lower stomach, "I'll be here on the weekends."

At least she would know when it was Saturday and Sunday. Would it be so bad if she couldn't tell the days apart from one another? The nurses and doctors knew what meds to give her and when to give them. The idea, no not the idea of it, the knowledge that she was losing track of time made her squirm.

Still, she was not going to ask Logan what day it was. Instead of talking Holly picked up his right hand and pressed the flat of her left hand against it. As always he curled his fingers over the tips of hers. Her hands were smaller, which was a given considering he was six foot one and she was on the border between five foot three and five foot four.

Was that what Alistair had meant? That physically Holly and Logan weren't a match and therefore did not fit? Her brow furrowed with the idea. Did that matter in a relationship? It didn't seem to matter to Logan and by all accounts Holly had never bothered to think about it before.

Her mouth opened to tell him about her new friend's observation. Then her mouth closed with a soft breath. No. Telling Logan would not have been a good idea. It would have made him angry and suspicious. It would strain their already strained relationship.

Logan wrapped his arms around her, "Can't sleep right without you most nights."

Holly smiled to herself. Who cared if they didn't fit?

Three days later Holly slipped into a coma.

* * *

Oh yea...I cried. Not that much more left to go.

I really appreciate all of the reviews and the favorites. Thank you all so much! I love you guys.

I'm gonna make myself an ice cream soda. Who wants one?


	6. Selfish or October Part 1

Missing - Evanescence

Kiss the Rain - Billy Myers

I Miss You - Blink 182

* * *

_Bow out. Or are you actually that selfish?_

Holly's lips formed the words as she lay in bed, green eyes tracing the familiar pattern of her bedroom ceiling. "Bow out," she whispered, brow furrowed. In her head the voice saying it was absolutely not hers. Forrest green eyes blinked slowly in the predawn light filtering through the window. Those words had been with her since she woke up from the coma her mutation had forced her into in mid-august.

It sounded like her fiancé in all honesty.

But who would Alistair have been talking to?

"Bow out," Holly murmured once again trying for the entire world to understand why Alistair would say that to someone. Anyone. He sounded angry and annoyed with whoever it was. What would they have been arguing about?

Her head started to hurt like it always did when she started to think too hard about the months before her coma. Alistair, her father and her grandfather, even Pepper would chide her when she let herself get like that. All of them were still antsy over her recovery. As irritating as their constant supervision and worry was, at least they cared.

"You shouldn't be awake yet," Alistair murmured in her ear as he turned over. He pulled her hips against his and nuzzled her neck. "You need your sleep."

Holly smiled and laced her fingers with his under the sheets. "I was just trying to remember when we met."

Alistair sighed, a world weary sound. He pushed up on one elbow so that he could look down at her. Holly bit her lower lip as he brushed dark strands from her eyes. "Honey, I told you, I had to wipe a lot more than I thought I would have to. The memories are completely gone. They're never coming back."

Then why did it feel like if she pushed herself hard enough they would be there?

Resigning herself to yet another morning of unreachable and broken memories, Holly smiled up at her fiancé. She reached up and gently ran her fingertips over his jaw. "I know. I just hate not being able to remember our first date. Or meeting my dad for the first time. Or finding out I was pregnant or…"

One of Alistair's hands covered her mouth, "We can make new memories honey."

Under the sheets she tugged at the waistband to his sweatpants, "Oh yeah?"

A wolfish grin spread across his face, "Yeah."

Holly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. He kissed her back, murmuring against her mouth how he loved her. His hand came up under her shirt to cup one of her breasts. Alistair's fingers pinched and tugged at one of her nipples gently.

Instinctually Holly bit his lower lip.

Alistair jerked back. His smile was a little uncertain, "Ouch. Baby, careful, not so rough."

Confusion furrowed Holly's brow. She remembered playing a little rough, biting, scratching and… Her head started to hurt again. It was not right. This was _wrong_ and she didn't know why.

Bile rose in her throat. Holly shoved at Alistair's chest, "I don't feel well."

With a sound that was a cross between anger and annoyance, "Okay." Then he sighed and got out of bed. "Try to go back to sleep babe, I'm going to take a shower. A cold one." The bathroom door slammed.

Holly sat up in bed half feeling like she wanted to cry. The other half was furious. Furious with herself, furious with the world at large. She pressed her hands to her face. Why did…why… Hot tears of frustration burned her eyes and the palms of her hands. There were so many questions.

There were too many questions.

* * *

The list was even longer. Holly traced an absent minded circle with her pen at the top of the page. Logic told her that yes, with a full year of memories gone, there were going to be a lot of questions. She flipped the page back and forth. Two pages of questions were more than possible. Holly flipped the notebook pages forward twice more.

Four pages however…

Holly closed the notebook. The psychologist her father had her seeing told her to keep one to help keep her memories and thoughts straight at home. As it was the notebook only served to further Holly's sinking feeling that something was rotten in the State of Denmark. Her lips pressed together in a thin flat line, green eyes narrowed at the script on the front of the book and for the umpteenth time she pushed herself to remember.

Her head started to ache, a dull throb in the middle of her head and if she kept pushing it would start to hurt. Alistair had said he wiped her mind because, according to everyone she knew, there was too much clutter in her head. The analogy used was this: she was a hard drive that had very little space left. It would run but not very well.

The throbbing ache stopped.

Holly opened the notebook and looked at the first line written in her loopy script:

_I was broken. They say that I am fixed. I do not feel fixed._

Funny thing that. She still did not feel fixed. Sure, her brain was working and she was back to her life but… Holly closed her eyes and breathed out. Somehow, in some strange way Holly was absolutely sure that things were missing from her life. Parts of her life felt completely off.

Other times her life seemed to be positively foreign.

_I love Alistair?_

Even then, half awake and half asleep, being with Alistair had felt…funny. Not the happy kind of funny but the odd kind of funny. His face was a face she knew. His hands fit hers, his mouth slanted properly over hers and her curves matched his planes and lines. She knew he played the piano, he was a cocky bastard and his presence cleared her mind.

So no, it had not been a huge jump to think that she had been in love with Alistair. It had simply felt strange to be in love with him.

_I agreed to become domestic._

That. That. That!

Alistair told her they were in the middle of buying a house when she had fallen into a coma. They were just waiting on the escrow to close so that they could move in. He and their realtor had taken her to the house. Holly had been floored. The idea that she would give up enough of her independence to live in a house that was paid for by someone else…

But buying a house? A house. Home. Domicile with a yard and a fence and… Holly's hand shot up to her temple as a white hot streak of pain cracked her skull in half. The shriek of agony that left her mouth brought Alistair running and not far behind him Tony.

Alistair pulled her against his chest and made soothing sounds, telling her that it was okay. He met Tony's gaze then jerked his chin at the notebook. Holly's father nodded back in silent agreement and took the book away. He would hide it somewhere Holly would never find it.

It was better this way.

* * *

Alistair dropped the requested can of string beans into the shopping cart begrudgingly, "Babe, you know your dad has people that do this for him."

Holly plucked a jar of sweet half peaches off the shelf. "I like peaches," she asked him, "don't I?"

"Yeah, you do."

The can joined the growing pile at the bottom of the cart. She looked at the list again, "I know he does, but I wanted to do something besides read and watch movies all day. Besides it's not like my dad's 'people' know what brands we like."

Holly turned the cart and headed down the next isle, "And they forgot to get your coffee the last three times. I know you hate my dad's Italian stuff so I figured I'd pick up some Folgers while we're out."

Alistair put his hand on hers when she reached for the red and black container. "Baby, I don't drink coffee."

Large, confused green eyes met topaz, "Yes you do."

"No honey, I don't." He insisted. "Lipton only, remember?"

Holly closed her eyes as she realized that was right. He always made enough hot water for two cups in the morning. One for her and one for him. Slowly she retracted her hand, "I'm sorry." Those words were becoming so familiar. Just like the next set that followed; "I forgot."

Alistair wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a lingering kiss, "Don't worry baby. Remember what your shrink said?"

Holly nodded slowly. She returned his kisses and told herself he was right. How could she have forgotten something so basic? So very simple. Something they did every day. Holly pressed a gloved hand to her forehead and tried to clear the nagging sensation in her mind. The one that told her that she was missing something very big here.

She just didn't know what it was.

As always a slow throb began to thrum its way through her head. Holly closed her eyes and breathed in. When Alistair asked her if she was alright, Holly feigned a smile, "I'm fine. Just tired I guess."

"That's what you get for waking up at the ass crack of dawn," Alistair told her with a laugh. He pressed another kiss to her forehead then took control of the shopping cart. "Let's pay for this stuff and get out of here babe."

"Why did you ask me out the first time we met?" Holly asked. "What was it that made you want me?"

Alistair stopped the cart and turned around, topaz eyes narrowing just slightly when he saw she had not been following. He left the cart alone and went back to her, "Baby, I've told you this stuff already. Don't you remember?"

The words were all too familiar so the lie fell from her lips as if they were the truth.

"I forgot."

Alistair took her gloved hand in his bare one and stripped off the cloth. His fingers were warm to the touch and completely blank. He smiled lovingly, "I saw a broken touch-know that needed my help. It was kind of a bonus that I fell in love with you."

_I'm broken._

Holly jerked back, yanking her hand from his. The glimpse was there, a half remembered memory that strained tenuously just within reach. Her bare hand came up to her temple. He was there, looking down at her, his hand pressed to her forehead.

"I'm broken," Holly whispered. Forrest green met hooded amber. "When did I tell you that?"

"At Mayfair, in New York," Alistair told her. "The first time we met." It wasn't a lie.

That was right. They had met in New York. They had both been living across the country. His accent wasn't one from Long Island, nor was it anywhere near the accent that the inhabitants of the five Burroughs had. "You're," she said, her brow creased in concentration, "you're from Rochester aren't you?"

The tensed expression eased, "Yeah baby, that's right." He tried to reach for her again and Holly let him take her hand this time. "Sweetie, how about we go home and you can ask all the questions you want. Okay?"

Holly nodded brokenly and let him lead her back to the cart.

Her head throbbed painfully.

* * *

And here you thought I'd let her die. Tsk. No faith in me.

The Neverending Story is on. Second favorite movie of all time. Favorite movie of all time is Second Hand Lions. I love the story.

The story, aside from the last chapter, is finished. I won't hold the chapters hostage for reviews, they'll be posted one after the other as of tonight.


	7. Liars or October Part 2

Hit Me Baby - Ahmed Zappa version

Rattlesnake Smile - Kane

Puppet Chase - Bandits

Ugly Side - Blue October

* * *

For the first time in nearly fifteen years Holly was able to wrap her arms around her grandfather and kiss his cheek. Whatever Alistair had done when he wiped her mind had toned her power down. She chose what came and went for the first time in her life and it was wonderful.

"Pop pop," Holly said happily, her heart swelling in her chest. "I missed you."

Everything inside her said that once her grandfather was there the world would start to feel right again. So she hugged him tightly, joyfully and breathed in his smell. The smell of home and her childhood. It felt so very, very good to have him hug her back. And he would be here for the next month, staying until just after her due date.

Tears welled in her eyes and when she pulled back her grandfather looked worried.

"Little bit, what's wrong?"

She waved off the tears, "Nothing. Nothing. It's the hormones. I'm just so happy to see you. That's all." That wasn't all. Not by a long shot.

Even though she insisted on carrying one of his bags her grandfather would have none of it. "You're seven months along, I am not letting you carry anything I can carry myself." He only had two bags, both of them small, one a carry on and the other a medium sized suitcase.

Holly was thankful that her father and fiancé were gone for the day. Her father was off taking care of his company, Stark Industries with the ever faithful Pepper at his side. Alistair on the other hand was on yet another job interview. He insisted that he be able to support his family on his own. Without his father in law's help.

Honestly, Holly would have just preferred that Alistair took the job Tony had offered. It would have kept him out of the house instead of bothering her all day. Love could strangulate and suffocate if it wasn't allowed to breathe.

If she wasn't allowed to breathe.

Another reason that made her happy her grandfather had finally come out to see her. Spending time with him gave her a way out of Alistair's ever watchful eye. Where at first it had been comforting, now it was aggravating.

Not for the first time Holly wished she had never gotten pregnant.

Leaving him meant nothing if she still had to share their children.

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she guided her grandfather to the secondary guest room. For someone that lived alone, Tony had an enormous amount of space. "You have your own bathroom too pop pop." She pushed open the door, "Jarvis, lights please."

"Of course Miss Holly," the guest room lit with low light while the late afternoon sun flooded in through the windows.

"You'll get used to Jarvis, but I don't think Tony has programmed you into the AI's recognition yet. He'll probably need your speech patterns and-"

"Little bit, how about you let an old man get settled first." Her grandfather said with a laugh. "You know I don't understand you when you start talkin' about science and computers."

Holly blushed slightly, her cheeks staining just enough, "Sorry pop."

He put his suitcase and carry on up on the bed and looked around. "You like it here, don't you little bit?"

"The weather is nice, and it's good to be around Tony," she told him. "He missed so much of my life."

"And you're happy?" He asked in a way that made Holly pause.

"For the most part," she said honestly. "I'm missing a lot of my memories so things with Alistair are a little tense occasionally. We'll smooth everything out in the long run."

Her grandfather hugged her again, tightly this time. "I want you to be happy little bit."

"I am," she lied. When they separated there were tears in her eyes again. He pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to her. "Thank you pop pop," Holly said with a sniffle. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes and gave it back to him. "Want me to help you unpack or did you want to live out of your luggage for the next month?"

He scowled at her, "You're just like your grandmother sometimes, did you know that?"

This time her smile did reach her eyes.

* * *

Holly sat quietly in the twilight of her room, eyes on the ring she had slipped off her finger. Never having been one for jewelry she didn't know what the cut of the diamond was called. Nor did she know how many carats it was, or if she was wearing platinum, white gold or silver. The diamond was a circle, small and shaded a very faint yellow if held up to a white light.

This was not her ring. The feeling had been a sinking ship inside her, always with her. Ever since Alistair had given it to her to put on. It fit her ring finger perfectly and sat there with no hint that it should not have been there. Yet the knowledge that it was the wrong ring filled her absolutely.

This was not her ring.

She set the innocent pale band spinning on the upper part of her ring finger.

Her ring had been on a thin gold band and the diamond had been smaller and square. There had been two emerald chips on either side of it, her birthstone. The diamond had not been inlaid as it was with her current ring. It had stood out and sparkled in the sunlight.

Her ring had made her giddy.

Today, while helping her grandfather unpack, Holly had a flash of her ring. It came to her while in the middle of unpacking her grandfather's socks. He had those large, long woolen white socks that went half way up one's calves and were supposed to help with circulation. Her mind had given her a glimpse of another suitcase, maybe a duffle bag, and her hands uncovering her ring from a pair of white gym socks.

"Alistair," Holly called softly in the dark, "did you give me another ring?"

He poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. The sound of water turned off. "What babe? I couldn't hear you."

Holly held up the ring, "Did you give me a ring before this one?"

He laughed, a genuinely amused sound, "Babe that thing cost me like five hundred. I couldn't afford to give you another ring." Then he ducked back into the bathroom. The water started up again followed by the sounds of Alistair rinsing and then the water shut off once more. He flicked off the bathroom light effectively dousing both rooms in darkness.

Holly hit the button on the remote to turn on the television. She was not tired and she was not in the mood to put up with Alistair's attempts to get into her pants. Her psychologist told him that everything would come in time on her own terms. He would just have to keep it in his pants again tonight.

Alistair hid his scowl well enough until he saw the movie's credits. He grinned in the bluish-white glow of the flat panel and settled himself under the blanket. "Nine and a Half Weeks baby?"

Her hand with the control wavered slightly as she turned to him. Green eyes blinked at him in the darkness and for once, the sinking feeling didn't consume her with guilt. "Alistair, how long have we been together?"

"A little over a year," he replied. "Why?"

Holly turned her head back to the screen, "No reason."

The seed of doubt began to germinate.

* * *

_Will you please come back by the time I count to fifty?_

Holly pressed back into Alistair's embrace, not for the comfort of it, but to measure his size. He hugged her lovingly, blissfully unaware of what she was doing. His arms didn't wrap around her properly. They did for someone his size but, he was too short. Given that he was five ten that made her think that the man in her head was taller.

Probably six foot.

Her hand went up behind her to touch Alistair's face, her fingertips running up his jaw to his ears. The skin was smooth, freshly shaved and soft. The man in her head had a beard. Alistair kissed her head, his lips pressing against her hair. The man in her head had to bend a little to kiss the top of her head.

Holly stepped out of Alistair's embrace.

For someone that had realized everyone around her was lying to her, Holly was absolutely calm. Her genius level brain was coming up with plans of attack, strategy and logical reasons for their deception. To say that she was pissed off was a grievous understatement. Holly equated her anger with the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

As if they wanted to compound her anger, her notebook was now missing. And no one had seen it. How fortuitous for them that all of her unanswered questions were suddenly gone. All of her observations, absentminded or no had mysteriously up and vanished. Holly snapped her pencil in half.

When she popped there were going to be no survivors.

"I'm going for a walk Jarvis," Holly told the AI, "if anyone comes looking for me I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Of course Miss Holly," the English accent said. "Enjoy your walk."

She paused at the front door, an idea occurring to her. "Jarvis?"

"Yes Miss Holly," the AI answered.

Her pulse sped. "The man I was with before Alistair, what was his name?"

"Logan," the AI answered simply, sounding almost like he was bored.

Holly tried to keep the triumph out of her voice. She opened the door and called back, "Thank you Jarvis."

She was _not_ going for a walk. As soon as she was far enough away from the house Holly dialed information on her cell phone and had them connect her to a cab company. She tossed her backpack into the cab and directed him to take her to an ATM. Holly only removed enough from her checking account to pay for the cab, a meal and a one way plane ticket.

By the time anyone at home realized she had been gone too long, Holly was halfway across the country. The flight attendants doted on her because she was pregnant. Ginger ale came to her by the boat loads. The Jet Blue flight attendants tossed her an extra packet of butter cookies. In thanks she let them touch her stomach when they wanted. The twins even kicked for them.

Mel Brooks was right; it was good to be the king.

Or queen in her case.

* * *

Waterpeach4: I miss Logan too. He'll be back.

Kungfupandabear: No, Holly is not being stupid and controlled. As you can see she's not good with being lied to.

Christabel: Good. :)

Mystica Prime: So many questions!

----

You really wish you knew where I was going with this, don't you? Chapter 8 out tomorrow...or tonight depending on how fast the hit counter/review counter goes up.


	8. Halloween or October Part 3

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin

Never There - Cake

Jars - Chevelle

Fix You - Coldplay

* * *

Holly took the subway into Manhattan. The first place they would have expected her to go was probably Mayfair General. They probably also would try to track her phone by GPS. Holly trashed her mobile the moment she got off the plane. She bought a new, pay as you go phone and dialed Mayfair's number.

There would be no doubt that Tony had used his considerable influence to have the people at Mayfair stall her. Pity for them that Holly was smarter than that. "Hello Grace," Holly said to the receptionist, "I'm a former patient of doctor Salvo. Right. I started having severe nightmares again and I was wondering if I could talk to him. Maybe…" A smile broke out on her face as the woman offered to put her through. "That would be wonderful, thank you so much."

On the second ring Doctor Salvo picked up, "Salvo."

Holly changed her accent to sound more Brooklyn, "Sorry dude, I was trying to get Doctor Hale. Do you think you could…yea sure, I'll hold."

The phone rang once, twice, three times, "Doctor Andrew Hale, who may I ask is speaking?"

Once again Holly changed her accent, faking a southern twang, "Oh hiya! I'm Alice, I was a friend of Holly Harper's from high school, right, yeah…oh you sound cute." Then she giggled, just for effect. "I was tryin' to get in touch with her grandpa…uh huh. His neighbor told me he'd gone to see Holly an' I thought…"

"As far as I know miss," Holly's former doctor said very politely, "Miss Harper is living with her father currently. In California."

"Oh damn, I just called there an' her boyfriend said she left." Holly pressed her hand to her forehead. Damn. Wait. "Well I was thinkin' maybe she went to her old address, you know, the place she was at before? Damn me an' my terrible memory."

"I believe it was a school for mutants, upstate. Westchester." He said all too helpfully.

Holly bit her lower lip and punched the sky in triumph. "Well thank you very much cutie," she giggled again, said her goodbyes and hit the end button.

A school for mutants? There was such a thing?

Her heartbeat sped in her chest and the knowledge felt right. She went back down into Penn Station and looked at the train times. Metro north was leaving in an hour. Holly bought a ticket with the last of her cash and waited. It felt like an eternity while she waited. Every time a police officer or national guard passed her heart felt as if it would pound its way out of her chest.

Nothing felt safe, even on the train. Nervous energy had her nearly bouncing in her seat. The scenery outside, passing the windows was not a familiar sight. It triggered nothing in her memories. She held her breath and told herself to stay calm. Mount Vesuvius would blow when it was damn well ready to.

Stepping off the train in Westchester however…that felt familiar. It did not feel like coming home though. Holly pushed her hood back so that she could gaze up at the October sky. It was crisp and blue and a day moon was perfectly outlined in all its waxing glory. It was a beautiful day for Halloween.

* * *

The shopkeepers and store clerks were not very forthcoming when asked about the school for mutants. Holly didn't know if they were keeping a well guarded secret or if it was because they couldn't be sure she was a mutant. Several people looked her over, the covered skin, the sweatshirt and jacket. It was legitimately cold enough to be this covered up so they gave her the run around.

The people she approached seemed torn between the idea that she could be a normal flat scan like them or a mutant. Holly paused in mid thought. Flat scan. That was what an average human was called. A flat scan.

A smile spread across her face. This place was helping her remember things. Maybe getting shot down was worth it. Maybe if she walked a little more, covered a little more ground, just maybe something else would pop up.

Gloved hands jammed into her jacket pockets Holly contemplated going into the Halloween store next. She didn't though. There was no point to going in. Halloween stores were temporary. They existed for a month; perhaps a month and a half and then they were gone.

Instead she stood outside and watched the people inside.

Halloween was one of her favorite holidays. Personally she thought both April Fool's day and Halloween should have been national holidays worthy of a day off. Ground hog's day too for that matter. No one liked hearing there would be six more weeks of winter on the east coast while the west coast got to hear they were going to have blistering heat in a matter of weeks. Yep. Ground hog's day was absolutely a holiday worthy of a day-

A boy, more a teenager than child, with large blue eyes and scruffy medium brown hair was looking at her. He said something, a name it looked like and a smile spread across his face. He hung the costume he had been looking at up and ran for the front door. Seconds later he barreled into Holly, wrapping his arms around her and joyfully crying:

"Miss Harper!" He hugged her as if the world were coming to an end and this was his last chance.

Holly pushed him back by his shoulders. He wasn't much smaller than her, probably no more than fourteen or fifteen. He looked at her and they were almost eyelevel. "You know me?"

His joyful smile faltered at the edges, "You're my old English teacher, Miss Harper."

She knew him and yet, she didn't know him. His face was familiar but so completely foreign. Holly blinked evergreen eyes at him, and tried for the entire world to remember who he was. Her student. So she had been a teacher once. But when?

"I'm sorry," Holly told the boy sorrowfully as she disengaged herself and stepped back. "I don't remember you."

There were other kids outside now, and some of them looked pensive. They looked at her and each of them knew her. She saw that much in their faces. In the way they watched her. Holly's green eyes scanned them all waiting for some spark of recognition in her memory.

"I…" her brow furrowed as a slow thrum of pain began, "I taught you…" Her head truly began to ache. Holly pushed her fingers against her temples and made herself ignore the pain. "Dune," she whispered, yanking the knowledge from the depths of her mind. The pain abated. "And-"

"Alright," a mild southern accent said, "Ah know that…" The woman's voice stopped when brown met green. "Holly?" The woman said in a quavering voice. "Holly? Is that you?"

And the pain was back again, deeper, strumming through her skull. Holly's body sagged and she grabbed out for anything to hold her up. She waited for the ground to crush her knees, scrape her hands through the gloves but the ground never came. Someone was speaking and it wasn't the boy, nor was it the woman. This voice sounded French. And male.

Holly had enough presence of mind to try to struggle. Chasing her forgotten self hurt too much. She should have stayed at home and lived with the suspicion. It hurt.

Oh god it hurt.

* * *

Voices arguing in low tones was the first thing Holly became aware of when she woke up. She listened and tried to focus her cloudy mind on their voices. On what they were saying. She knew them and, just like with the boy, her fragile mind refused to acknowledge who they were. So, she listened and hoped.

"Dis not be good cher," the French man said vehemently. "Dis not be good at all. Professor agreed to let her leave for a reason. She better off with de'm out dere dan here."

"Remy," the woman hissed, "don't yah think Holly would have stayed out there if she was happy? She has one bag with her. One. And she's alone."

"You tink she ran away?"

Holly cracked open her eyes and found herself on a bench in a park. The pair were across the walking path from her, half hidden by a tree. "I did run away," she croaked out. Her throat was dry. "They were lying to me," Holly added. "I…ran."

The pair came back. He wore a long tanish duster, his hair a mousy brown shade tied back against his head, a white shirt, black pants, and black boots. She was more colorful with dark brown hair, dark eyes and a dark blue hooded winter jacket. She wore gloves of leather and plain blue jeans with sneakers.

The only skin showing was her face.

A face Holly knew she had seen cry. Her brow creased in concentration, "You were crying the first time I met you."

The woman's dark, sad eyes lit up, "That's right."

That knowledge hadn't hurt. It had just come to her. Holly nodded absently and sat up on the bench feeling slightly dizzy. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth and commanded her body to stop fucking with her.

Not that it listened.

"I ran away because they were lying," Holly repeated. "I knew they were lying to me."

A shared gaze and unspoken knowledge passed between the two of them. Then the girl was sitting on the bench beside Holly. Arms wrapped around Holly's shoulders and the girl said, "I'm Marie. Marie D'Ancanto. Most people call me-

"Rogue," Holly supplied without thinking about it. Evergreen eyes shot up to the man. "You're Gambit…aren't you?"

"Dat I am ma cher," he said with a sweeping bow and a wink. "You answered Remy's question before he asked it."

"Remy," Holly murmured rolling the name over her tongue. Yes. She knew that name. "And the boy before." She motioned with her hand to a direction, "He was…"

"Jimmy," Rogue supplied at the same time Remy told her, "Leech."

Holly nodded shallowly and let herself absorb the information. These were things she knew and once the blanks were filled in the memories began to surface and settle. Her lips broke into a smile. "I gave him an A minus on a paper once."

"Yeah," Rogue said as Holly's smile became infectious, "he was braggin' about it for days. Only A in the class." Then she hugged her best friend, "Holly ah missed you so much. You have no idea."

"We were all good friends," Holly continued finding that it was true when she thought about it.

"Oui," Remy told her. Then, "How much do you remember cher? Remy knows dat little ijit Alistair been lyin' to you."

Holly opened her mouth and for the first time in months she told the truth.

* * *

Storm's arms were warm, motherly almost and comforting. Holly breathed in the other woman's perfume and felt closer to home than she had in a while. Everyone said the same thing as they hugged her tightly. Even Storm.

They had honestly thought they would never see her again. They had missed her.

Yet there was still something, someone missing. Memories came back slowly as she walked through the halls with Storm as her guide. These walls, and the people settled her mind in a way that Alistair, her father and grandfather could not. Had not. This place, this school, this was home.

And yet it wasn't complete.

A blue cloud of smoke poofed into existence and a large blue tattooed man with yellow eyes was suddenly there. He threw his arms around her much like everyone else did and began to chatter at her in German. Or Dutch. Or Austrian.

"Kurt," Holly said with a laugh before Storm introduced (or was it reintroduced?) them. Holly hugged him back. "I only understand English."

"Jess, jess, of course frauline," Kurt said but he squeezed her tighter.

"Kurt," Storm said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder, "Holly needs to breathe."

He pulled back and there were tears in his eyes. He excused himself in German (or Dutch, or Austrian) and, took her gloved hands in his, "You remember me, jess?"

Holly nodded, "I remember you."

He inclined his head to her. "You have been missed." Then he poofed out of existence again.

Shaking her head, she said to Storm, "You think I wouldn't have missed that."

Storm smiled, "But you did, didn't you?"

"So terribly much." There was so much about this place, these people, that she had missed without even knowing that she missed it. Eventually that would make her angry, but for now Holly settled into the happy glowing warmth in her chest.

Storm opened the door to the Professor's office. The man behind the desk was a man that she knew. Bald, with knowing blue eyes. He looked up from his desk and placed his finger to his lips to indicate silence. There was a phone at his ear.

_Your father._ A distinctly British voice said inside her head. Which Holly took to mean her father was on the phone. She folded her hands together and waited.

When the phone clicked into place the Professor smiled at her, "I did tell them that wiping your mind would never hold completely. I am glad to see that I was right."

Holly nodded her head at the phone, "They're looking for me aren't they?"

"Your father and your grandfather are trying to gain my help in the search. Unfortunately for them I am not interested in their cause. Least of all in aiding Alistair." That sounded like there was a story there, but not one he was going to tell her about.

The little coil of tension and fear that had been growing in the pit of her stomach released. Holly let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and sat herself down. "I'm still missing a lot of my memories. Things are coming back but…"

"I'm sure quite a bit is still missing," he finished for her. "And I'm sure you have realized by now that there are some things that will never come back to you."

She nodded in acquiescence, "I figured as much."

"The longer you spend in a familiar place the more your life will come back to you." The Professor told her. "Your room is still unoccupied if you would like it back."

Holly closed her eyes and smiled with relief, "I would love that."

"As for the other matter," The Professor said, quite a bit more serious than a moment ago, "Logan is no longer at the school. He left shortly after your departure."

A sharp stab of longing made her inside twist. Her breath came out in a hiss, "I…I…" Holly's lips pressed together. She placed her hands on her stomach, "He's their father isn't he?"

"I believe so." The Professor said diplomatically.

"I don't remember what he looks like," Holly said softly, guiltily. I know his hair is dark like mine, I know his eyes are brown. I know he had a beard but…beyond that…" She shook her head. This time it was her chest that ached. "I just don't remember."

"Then perhaps you should see him."

* * *

Not much left. This is the longest chapter so far.

You know you want to know what happens. Last chapter and epilogue coming up. Soon.


	9. Logan or November Part 1

Not the One - Collective Soul

Through the Trees - Low Shoulder (Jennifer's Body soundtrack)

My Life Would Suck Without You - Glee Cast version

Spirit Boy - Christian Kane (KANE)

* * *

Cerebro was one room Holly knew for certain she had never seen. A massive room of plated walls and space with one long walk way to the center. Or what seemed to be the center. He warned her not to move. Then the Professor placed the headset over his head. The room lit up with white and red lights. "The white lights are humans," he told her, "and the red are mutants."

The warm glow in her chest exploded filing her with hope and a little joy. There were so many red lights. So many mutants in the world. Far more than she had ever dreamed possible. Holly covered her mouth with a gloved hand and laughed from the overwhelming feeling. "There are so many of us," Holly whispered.

"Mmm," The Professor agreed.

The scenery narrowed to just the red, and then just North America. Canada. British Columbia. A man, slightly hunched, using a chainsaw on a fallen tree.

"Logan, it seems, has gone back to his roots."

Holly wanted to reach out her hand and touch the red misty figure but she didn't. Her fists clenched. That was him. That was the man in her head, the one her dreams and memories danced around but never showed her. Her throat tightened with the desire to call out to him. Tell him to turn around. "Can you tell him to come back?" She asked half feeling like she wanted to cry.

"I am afraid not." The red lights faded. The panels came back into sight. The Professor removed the headset, backed up his wheelchair and turned around to face her. "I can however see if his communicator is still working. He took one with him when he left."

Holly bit her lip and nodded.

As it turned out Logan's communicator was working, he just wasn't using it. After Scott ran two remote diagnostic checks he determined that Logan had turned the device off. As expected he had no listed phone number in the British Columbia phone directory. Sending a letter would take too long.

The chances that her father and Alistair would figure out where Holly had run to went higher every moment Holly stayed in one place. Everyone knew it. Holly herself kept an ever vigil eye on the time. Four hours. Five. For every moment wasted it was another moment her dad had time to have her name flagged.

Going back to the airport would be pointless now.

Holly gnawed on the nail of her thumb, dark green eyes on her wrist watch. Three hours she had been here. Five since she had arrived in Westchester. It was nearly nine thirty at night here. Holly yawned with exhaustion and boredom.

Questions still nagged at her. At least here she could half expect them to be answered when posed. Rogue unfortunately could not answer a number of them. Neither could Remy. Ivy was absent, Scott and Holly had never got on well enough for her to ask question of him now, Kurt knew nothing that could be helpful. He pointed her toward the Professor and Storm.

Both were in the Professor's office. He was on the phone again. Storm ushered Holly out of the office.

"I have some questions I need answered," Holly told the older woman.

From the way Storm paused Holly thought for a moment she might have to deal with a lie. Then Storm said, solemnly, "Do you know what a psychic vampire is?"

Was Ender a third? "Yes."

Anyone with a vaguely psychic ability, mutant or not, knew what a psychic vampire was. They were the literal boogie men of the psychic world. Like a fictional vampire they could kill their victim or keep their victim alive, draining them and prolonging the…

Oh. Holly began to feel vaguely ill. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. "Did…" The very idea sickened her, "Does my father know that Alistair is…was…" Holly couldn't make her mouth finish that question.

"No, I don't think so. Charles only came to that conclusion several days after your father had insisted on taking you to California."

"How did he," a flare of anger surged through her when Holly said the word 'he' in reference to Alistair, "convince anyone into letting him wipe my mind?"

Storm shook her head, closing her dark eyes for a moment before meeting Holly's gaze again, "I really don't know Holly. Alistair had time alone with your father after you slipped into a coma in the hospital. I suppose he could have suggested removing your memories then. I do know that Alistair was the one to contact your grandfather."

Her grandfather who did not approve of Logan in the slightest. Holly knew where this was going. Her father had kept her in the hospital, her grandfather had allowed it and Alistair had fed them line after line. He had days upon days to lay his groundwork.

And Logan. Oh. Poor Logan. "He guilt tripped Logan into letting me go," she said filling in the blank. "I heard them and the words have kept repeating in my head over and over. I have dreams about two men arguing and fighting. I never remember much except Alistair saying: Bow out. Or are you actually that selfish?"

Now she knew who he had been talking to.

Under her skin, Mount Vesuvius began to boil.

* * *

Tony Stark had friends in high places. Unfortunately for him, so did Charles Xavier. Holly boarded a plane to Vancouver from JFK with an altered ID with the aid of a mutant that could create nearly seamless illusions on people and objects for short periods of time. The illusion would last about three hours. It was enough time for Holly to already be on the plane and gone before anyone noticed.

Storm had stuffed three hundred dollars into Holly's pocket and told her to come home soon. Remy and Scott had been Holly's escorts to the airport. They didn't leave her side until they absolutely had to.

Her hands had shaken as she handed her ID to the air port security staff. Her name on it was Sarah Murphy. She was twenty eight, born the day before Holly was. She had black hair, not brown and blue-green eyes, not just green. Her skin was paler but she was still on the border between five foot three and five foot four.

The flight attendants did not notice when the illusion faded. No one bothered her about having the wrong color eyes or her brown hair. Holly managed to get some sleep. No one would recognize her when she got off the plane because her father would never think that Holly would run to Canada.

Nervously Holly unfolded the paper with Logan's address on it and rechecked it for the umpteenth time. She chewed on her lower lip, rolling it between her teeth. What if he didn't want her anymore? What if he turned her away? What happened then? Her heart drummed out an erratic rhythm in her chest as the taxi drove.

Logan's home was far out of the way. Much farther than Holly had expected. He lived just a few miles outside a small logging town. The area was open grass land, hills and trees with a river that ran through the town.

Out here Logan had a different name. It was James.

The taxi pulled up, Holly handed the driver fifty Canadian dollars and got out. Again she chewed her lip. The cold penetrated her thick winter jacket, one that Rogue had loaned her. It was so much colder this far north. Icy wind bit at her nose and cheeks, stinging her eyes. And it was only mid afternoon.

The sun beat down over head with no affect but to shed light over the land.

The house was up on a small hill, one which Holly climbed with the aid of handmade steps. Someone had spent a great deal of time working on evening out and setting each one of the steps so that the wood remained stable. The top five steps were pale gray stone that glinted in the sunlight.

There was no car or truck up here. Which meant Logan wasn't home yet. The prospect of spending an hour or three outside in this icy wind was not a pleasant one. Logan might forgive her if she broke in. Holly pulled her wallet out of her backpack and slid her now useless credit card along the lock. It gave easily.

So much for security.

Holly pushed the door open and sighed with relief when warmth hit her face. She dragged off her hood, shaking out her long unbound hair while kicking the door closed behind her. This place smelled of familiarity. Woodsy, masculine and…home. Holly breathed in again and again filling her lungs with it.

She set her backpack down on the family sized wooden dining table. Rogue's heavy winter jacket was draped across the back of one of the dining chairs. Holly's own hooded sweatshirt went on top of it. There was a bookcase against the wall. Holly, even though her memories were fairly distorted or missing in places, felt that reading was not Logan's normal occupation.

Her boyfriend, Holly smiled to herself, was a lover and a fighter. Not a reader.

Holly's breath caught in her throat when she began to read the well bent covers of the books. Tentatively she reached out and pulled the copy of The Labyrinth, worn and falling apart off the shelf. She opened the cover.

_To Holly, my sweet girl. I love you. Mom._

This was her copy. She had searched everywhere for it when her grandfather had sent her stuff to Tony's place. And that copy of Ender's Game. That belonged to her too, she knew it by the way the spine was white and torn at the corner. Her copy of Clan of the Cave Bear. Talisman. Dune. The Phantom of the Opera. The Handmaid's Tail. The Wizard of Earthsea.

He had kept her books.

Holly pressed the book to her chest. This was the man that loved her.

* * *

_Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen. _Holly's dreams self said to the man before her. Even in her dreaming state she knew that he was not the Goblin King. He was not Jareth. He was Alistair, he was her father. And the child wasn't a child; it was her life in a bouncing crystal ball.

_Fear me_, Alistair said holding out the crystal with her life in it, _love me. Do as I say and I will be your slave._

Then he was not the one holding the crystal anymore. Holly looked down and it was in her hands. She looked back at him, his grim expression and smiled. Holly raised the crystal in her hand and dropped it. It smashed into a thousand glittering pieces on the ground. _You have no power over me._

Holly awoke slowly, blinking against the light that she had left on. The book was no longer on her chest though. It was on the coffee table. There was a blanket on her now. Holly strained her ears to listen. There were sounds coming from the kitchen, far to the right of the dining room. In her chest Holly's heartbeat jumped. A lump formed in her throat and her courage left her completely.

For several long moments Holly clutched the blanket against her chest and told her heart to be calm. Not that it listened. She shivered in the cooled air of the room. Holly pulled the blanket around her shoulders and then gave herself a mental shake. The world, her world, did not hinge on nerves and courage.

With that in mind Holly stood up and shuffled shyly to the doorway to the small kitchen. His back was to her, though he no doubt knew she was there. All five of his senses were heightened, that much she knew. Holly bit her lower lip as she watched him. He did not turn around and she didn't say anything.

Everything about him was familiar, his awkward hair, strong frame, broad shoulders and muscular form. The curve of his back was a memory in itself. Holly closed her eyes and saw him without seeing him. Brown eyes that watched her with love and desire. The feeling of powerful arms enveloping her, sheltering her, keeping her safe. How his hands were larger than hers. He was a beacon of warmth on a cold night.

A smile touched her lips as her eyes reopened. "I remember you."

He kept his back to her. Not because he didn't want to see her. He did. He did so much it made him ache. But he had dreams like this before. Throughout the end of September, nearly the whole month of October. Logan had dreams that were so real…

The word dream wasn't appropriate. No.

They were nightmares.

In his nightmares Logan would come home from work and Holly would be there. In some she would still be pregnant. In many she wasn't. Sometimes Holly was the same age she was now and he would be happy to see her. He would go to her in those dreams, and try to wrap his arms around her, try to kiss her. She would hold him at arm's length and tell him that if he really cared about her he would leave her alone. For their kids, he would never come near them again. Then she would walk out, slamming the door behind her.

In others Holly was old, seventy, maybe eighty and she would yell at him. Hit him. Call him a bastard for leaving her. Letting her believe the lie. The guilt would rip at him, raw and burning in his chest. Then she would shake, her eyes rolling up into her head and she would die there in his arms.

In one she had brought the boys with her. They were at least fifteen, maybe sixteen. Holly would be in her forties but she wouldn't know him. Alistair would be there, and Logan's sons would call that lying little fuck 'dad'. Alistair would pick a fight with Logan, purposefully taunting to get a rise. When Logan finally did hit the negative the man would drop down dead. Holly would scream and fly at Logan, crying and screaming at him for killing her husband.

Those were the nightmares that would wake Logan in the night.

"Do you darlin'?" Logan asked after a long stretch of silence. He didn't think his mind could take it when he woke up to find out she really wasn't there. Not after it had been one week since the last nightmare. Not when his sanity was only just getting back.

There was a slow shuffle of sneakers against hardwood. She stopped behind him and breathed out. A cool hand, real as the boiling water on the stove, pressed against his clothed back. This was not a dream. This was _not_ a dream.

With speed that was more than human Logan turned around to face the woman haunting his dreams. She looked up at him apprehensively, eyes as green as they had been the day she had smashed nose first into his chest. He caught her hand with one of his and held it at the wrist half way between them.

She was real. _Real_. This wasn't some creation his guilty imagination had fostered.

Tentatively Holly reached up and stroked the skin above his beard on his right cheek. A shy smile spread across her mouth. "I remember you Logan."

Then he was kissing her, his mouth crushing against hers, one hand at the back of her neck tilting her head back to give him better access. Holly let out a soft cry of longing against Logan's lips, opening her mouth to allow him in. She pushed up on her toes kissing him back with hope and need and desire swirling violently in her chest.

This was home.

* * *

This chapter actually had gone in a different direction. I'm still trying to decide how to end this. I had a whole epilogue written but somehow it didn't fit. I'm writing a new one. It'll be a while.

If anyone is going to the KANE concert on March 21st in Portland, Oregon from California I would love to catch a ride with you. My boyfriend doesn't want to go but I'm dying to.

I'm also rewriting my opening chapters to my Leverage story. It started out not being a job, but it works so much better as a job.

Going back to Microsoft Word now. I will produce more fiction today.


	10. In the End or November Part 2

I've Got My Mind Set on You - George Harrison

Through the Trees - Low Shoulder

Last Christmas - Glee Cast Version

Hear You Me - Jimmy Eat World

Ghosts - Ladytron

Do I - Luke Byrant

Keep on Trying - Poco

* * *

It was the warmth pressing against her stomach that woke Holly. She blinked blearily up at the unfamiliar ceiling and for a moment Holly's senses went into hyper awareness. Then a familiar voice murmured, "Go back to sleep darlin'."

Logan. Canada. Running.

Holly relaxed back into the warmth of his embrace. His arm automatically tightened around her again. This was what had been missing every night. The safety, the warmth, the affection, all of it had been missing from the bed she had shared with Alistair. Because she did not love him the way she loved Logan. The reverse was true as well. Alistair had no conception of the way Logan loved Holly.

With a smile Holly felt Logan's hand pressed against the underside of her stomach. He was awake now too. They were both silent aside from even breaths that filled the small bedroom. Holly felt the twins kick, both near his hand. Logan's hand automatically shifted over the spot. His breathing quickened.

"I think they missed you," Holly whispered to him.

Logan's response was to wrap his arm around her shoulders then draw her against his chest. His mouth pressed to her hair, "I saw you on that couch and thought I was dreaming." A chaste kiss against her temple as the muscles of his arm tightened minutely. He still could not be sure this was not all some crazy dream his mind had come up with on the brink of insanity. In his arms Holly felt real. When her fingers trailed gently, almost casually up and down his torso they felt real. Her breath on his shoulder was damp moisture on his skin. The kick of their children beneath his hand told him to believe in them. Believe in this.

There are a thousand different things that can go wrong in life. Life is never as simple as it should be, not now, not ever. Logan and Holly knew it better than anyone else in the world. Fate had flicked her hand and the world had driven them apart on a whim. Another turn, another movement had sent Holly back to him, into his arms where he wanted her.

His mouth pressed against hers and she kissed him back.

"I need you to promise me one thing Logan," Holly told him. She laced her fingers with his and squeezed. "But I can't tell you what it is until you agree to it."

He leaned on one elbow, propped up enough to look down on her, "Darlin' why do I get the feelin' that I'm not gonna like this."

She gave him a wry smile and reached up to touch his face with her free hand. Her fingers trailed down from temple to chiseled jaw, ghosting over his beard and then back to his ear. "No. You probably won't."

Logan closed his eyes and with a resigned breath, "I promise."

"I don't want you to kill Alistair." The air seemed to still around them after she said it. Holly did not take a breath and Logan was left lacking a response. Holly bit her lower lip, "That's not to say you can't hurt him. Actually," because she was going to be honest with him. Because she loved him. "I would love to watch you break a few of his bones. Stab him in a few non vital places." Holly tried to laugh, to smile and make it funny, but it wasn't. Her laugh was tired and sad.

There was darkness in Logan's gaze when his eyes finally reopened. "Do you love him?" It wasn't an accusation but the words fell like stones into placid water.

Her head shook back and forth, "No. I hate him." She said it with such venom, no hesitation. The very idea made her angrier than she had ever been. "I hate what he did to us and I hate that he made me believe the lie." Gingerly she reached out to touch him again. He didn't pull away. As good a sign as any as far as she was concerned. "Please Logan. Trust me."

In response he settled down on the bed with her, drawing her against his chest. Blunt fingers wove through her hair, massaging her scalp. It was several minutes before he said softly, "I trust you darlin'." He trusted her implicitly though he did not trust himself. The rage he felt when he thought of Alistair and what that whelp had done was a familiar friend. One that he held in check with a great deal of self control.

He was not an animal.

Under Logan's hand one of the twins kicked at him. Then the other one did. Logan settled back into the bed, arm around Holly, one hand pressed to her swollen stomach. He believed in this. The rest of the world be damned.

* * *

The distinct _crack_ of Alistair's jaw as Logan's fist slammed into his face was actually not the immediate thought in his mind. Somewhere in the back of his head Alistair did register the throbbing pain emitting from where his jaw was now broken. His coherent thought process consisted of a few random thoughts. The first was that people's heads really did snap back when punched with enough force. Second that he had thought Holly had been using a metaphor when she referred to Logan as being made of metal.

As Alistair's ass landed on the gravel outside of the Xavier Mansion he realized he was in serious trouble. He grabbed his aching face, wincing when there was a wet pop. He moved to get up but a growl that sounded far more like an animal than a human's left Logan's throat in warning. Alistair, being smart enough to take the warning as it was, sat himself back down to nurse his wounds.

Another _crack!_ filled the air. For a moment Alistair thought that his jaw had dislocated itself entirely. Then he realized the sound had not come from him. He cast topaz colored eyes toward Holly and her father. The visible side of Tony's face reddened in the midday sun.

"You had no right!" Holly's indignant cry rebounded off the walls of the mansion, echoing back at the four people in the open driveway.

Tony's jaw tightened, "I did it for your own good. You were _dying_."

She raised her hand to hit him again, the anger inside her casting all ration thought away. Logan clamped a hand around her wrist and stopped her. The small woman jerked her arm against him but he held fast. "Easy darlin'," Logan murmured, "he's still your father."

"You're my daughter," Tony told her, "I'd only just found you and I couldn't think of anything else. You were in a coma. We tried the brain and it failed. I panicked."

"So you let me believe in a lie?" Holly hissed. A gloved hand pointed at Alistair still sitting on the gravel holing his jaw and watching them. "You listened to him, to what he wanted instead of waiting to ask me?"

"You asked for Alistair when you woke up."

It seemed like even the birds stopped chirping. Holly swallowed what her father said, momentarily forgetting about the seething mountain of fiery vengeance that threatened to spill over in her chest. She had asked for Alistair? Why on earth would she ask for Alistair? _Why_ in the name of all that she held dear would she ask for him instead of Logan?

There really was no answer for it. None that she could come up with in any case.

"I asked," the words sounded foreign even though she knew they were coming out of her mouth, "for that slimy rat?" Long dark hair swayed back and forth as she shook her head trying to clear the very idea from her head. "I would never ask for him, I _hate_ him."

"You hate me now," Alistair said massaging his jaw through the pain, "but two weeks ago you couldn't keep your hands off me."

Another growl, this one far darker and more threatening than the last left Logan's throat.

Holly turned and wrapped her arms around the man she loved, holding him close. "I never did anything with him Logan," her voice was soft. "Never."

"That's not true," Alistair goaded as he got to his feet. "Want me to tell you about that little cluster of freckles she has on the small of her back?"

Holly wrapped herself tightly around Logan. "Don't believe him."

"Or that breathless way she moans when you lick the right spot?"

Logan tried to disengage himself from Holly so that he could satisfy the itching of his knuckles. Right at that moment he didn't think he could keep his promise to Holly. If she hadn't been holding him back that boy would have been on the receiving end of Logan's claws.

Alistair grinned despite the pain it caused him. It felt good to drive a wedge between them. There would always be a question in Logan's mind now. No matter how this ended Holly's loyalty to Logan would always be shadowed by a seed of doubt.

"You shut up," Tony snarled at him. "You lying son of a bitch. You told me that was what she wanted."

Alistair shrugged. It was a means to an end. Holly was a good match for him. They fit, even if she didn't believe it. Her hand was sized perfectly to set in his. She fit just under his chin. When they kissed their mouths met in a near seamless union. They fit. The fact that she had been with someone else at the time was simply an obstacle. He had never been one to bow out and walk away from a challenge. Of course this particular challenge had not gone the way he had intended it to go. He had thought he had grabbed every iota of Holly's memories of Logan and ground them to dust. Clearly he had not.

That would not be a mistake he would repeat.

"She did want it." Which was not a complete lie. Holly had wanted to be free of the many memories that were not hers. "I've only ever done what you wanted Holly," Alistair maintained. "You wanted your mind wiped, I did it. You asked for me when you woke up, I was there. You told me not to leave you, so I didn't. I spent months convincing you to live a life without pain because you wanted me to."

Holly swallowed thickly and breathed out a shuddering breath. She did not want to believe him but a nagging voice inside her head said he was not lying to her. Mount Vesuvius was tempered by conflicting emotions. In the face of her untrustworthy memories, Holly had no idea what to believe and what not to. Her mouth opened to reply, but there was none.

Logan's hand's settled on her arms, rubbing her shoulders the way he did when she was struggling with her thoughts. The simple act was mindless on his part. It was something he did to comfort her. He held her and squeezed gently while he looked down at her.

Holly looked back at him. Her fingers splayed against his back as the tight chords of his muscles fluttered ever so slightly with his comforting motions. Logan was solid, and his dark eyes held no accusation. Holly choked on a sob and buried her face in his chest. It didn't matter what her wiped mind had wanted. This was what she wanted. A life with Logan.

That was what she could believe in.

"Go away Alistair," Holly breathed as she held onto Logan, terrified that if she let go for one instant this would all be some terrible dream. "Go away and never come back."

* * *

Forgiving her father took a lot more effort that Holly had thought possible. Forgiving her grandfather for going along with the ruse was near monumental. Everyone else was just a bystander that somehow got caught in the lie. Now that life was back to normal (or at least as 'normal' as life could get in the Xavier mansion) it was getting easier to differentiate which memories were real and which ones were not.

There were things that Holly would never recover. Memories that Alistair had ground out or wiped away so thoroughly that they left a blank spot in her mind. While her first kiss with Logan came back with time, their first time making love never did. She had to take his word for it when he told her that she seduced him in a car. Logan insisted that he had wanted to wait to get back to the mansion and a bed, but she had snapped his control with a few well placed gropes. The idea made her blush. Holly made Logan promise that once she had her figure back they would have to do a take two of that specific occasion.

Professor Xavier could enter her mind now. Whatever switch Alistair had flipped inside her head not only made it easier for her to deny entrance to any unwanted memories, it also let psychics in if she was okay with it. Holly had no idea if her power would ever revert, but as it was, she was happy this way. She had measured control over a power that had plagued her for years. Now the only memories that she absorbed were her own.

Sweat soaked, sore, throat aching and body worn beyond exhaustion Holly flopped back on the hospital bed. Another cry filled the air mingling with the sound of another new born screaming his lungs out. The doctors had seen twins. The two babies had covered their smaller sibling, slightly underweight but healthy enough to bellow like a banshee. Triplets.

Logan smoothed he hair back from his wife's forehead and murmured softly to her. She had done so well. Three boys. Three little creatures that would grow up calling her mom and him dad. He kissed her sweat soaked brow and told her he loved her.

"Have you thought of any names?" One of the nurses asked as she handed Logan the first boy. He had been born at exactly nine minutes past ten in the morning.

Logan leaned down a little to show his wife the squirming bundle of pink in a sea of blue. "He's a fighter."

She smiled sleepily at him, gingerly raising one hand to touch her son's perfect little fingers. "Caden Thomas."

Another nurse delivered another boy, this time to Holly. He had been born four minutes and ten seconds after Caden. The boy didn't squirm, just yawned sleepily and snuggled into the warmth of the blue blanket. He already had a small black tuff of hair beginning on his head.

"Adam James," Logan supplied.

The nurse that had delivered Caden to Logan now handed him the last boy. He was smaller, but healthy and his tiny hands grasped at the air. He yawned and made a soft mewling sound. Logan and Holly shared a look. They hadn't come up with any other names. They had, after all, only been expecting two.

"Yer better with names than I am sweetheart," Logan told her as he handed Caden back to the nurse so that she could write his name on the tiny hospital tag they had wrapped around the newborn's arm.

The other nurse took Adam to do the same to his tag.

Holly held out her arms to hold her smallest son. He reached out for her, eyes closed, mouth moving. He mewled again. "Toby," Holly murmured softly, "Tobias Daniel."

The corners of Logan's mouth went up, "Yer asking for him to get teased."

Holly shook her head as she stroked Toby's face with a careful caress. "He's going to be a happy little boy."

They all would be.

**_The End_**

* * *

I would like to thank everyone that read All of this Past and Pulling Heaven Down. Thank you for the reviews and staying with me through the hills and valleys of writing. I hope you all have enjoyed being there with the characters while I've written. Thank you so much.

There will be no further installments to the lives I've created for Logan and Holly. I may one day write about their kids but that won't be any time soon.

I also hope that I've expanded your iTunes library with all the song suggestions. Maybe someone's discovered an artist they will really enjoy. I hope so!

My next story up is more than likely my story for **Leverage**. It is an Eliot/OC and I hope that those of you who enjoy _Leverage_ as much as I do will add it to you alert list like you added both of my X-Men stories.

Aside from that I have only one request. As many, many of my readers know I do not like corrections/personal rants being placed in the review page. I personally do not do that to other writers and as such I dislike when people do it to my stories. Please use the private message or email buttons on top of my profile.

Again, thank you all so much. I hope you liked the completion of Pulling Heaven Down.

**And, since I've never actually asked this before:** Would you mind terribly clicking that review button at the bottom of the page? :)


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